First Bubble
by dmswritingagain
Summary: Jane recalls her first dream bubble. ((could be seen as jakejane and contains spoilers up until [S]: GAME OVER, KID))


The first dream bubble I ever visited was my own. I woke up in my room, sunlight spilling from behind the curtains, a vanilla cake baking downstairs, and my pesterchum going off its rocker. When I sat up, I told myself I had fallen, maybe tripped on something even though my carpet was bare and nothing was sore or bruised. The climb into my desk chair had me dizzy, which probably was my second chance to notice I wasn't my normal self. New to the concept, however, the idea never struck. My desktop was still clogged with the usual unwarranted Guy Fieri propaganda, but with a few clicks I could stealthily dodge those darned popup ads. I would have switched but then again, brand loyalty is a powerful thing.

GT: Jane!

GT: Forgive my botherations. i know this must be a spanking ripsnorter of a day for you and all.

GT: But do you happen to know where the devilfucking dickens mr strider might be?

GG: Oh, that's fine!

GG: I had been meaning to message you sooner actually, but I suppose in all the hubbub today, it plumb slipped my mind.

GG: Which is a shocking fact on its lonesome, considering what I have to tell you!

GT: Egad…

GT: *Loosens collar a bit.*

GG: As for this Strider business, hrmmm. He's an elusive guy Jake. You know that.

GG: I talked to him yesterday. That's as much help as I can be!

GT: Shoot.

GT: I really need to ask him something but hes got his blasted auto responder turned on.

For a while, we just talked like we always did. At some points I briefly pondered confessing to my affections right off the bat before a certain Mr. Strider took the wheel for me, but before I could he signed off to go send off some very important present on its very confusing journey. I sat back in my creaky old desk chair and looked at the clock in the corner of the screen. Almost 11:11 on 11/11/11. The rebranding was coming up! For a while I just intently stared at those numbers until a melodic beep shook me from my daze. Jake was back, I suppose.

GT: Hello madame!

GG: Oh, hi, Jake!

GG: Did you forget something?

GT: No, but i think you did.

GG: Me? Well, what is that supposed to mean?

GG: I don't have anything to tell you.

GT: Jane i think we both know thats a pile of malarkey.

GG: It is not! I don't know what you're talking about, really!

GG: Weren't you going into that temple with the rabbit and present? Why are you still talking to me?

GT: Jane, i need you to think really hard right now. is anything amiss here?

GG: I don't know, is there?

GG: Why are you acting so weird? Just go send your time travelling bunny already!

GT: Jane, please just answer the question. why is this wrong?

GG: I don't know! You're acting weird!

GG: You're not even supposed to be talking to me, and now it sounds like there's an assassin over my shoulder or something! I don't know what you mean!

GT: Why am i not supposed to be talking to you?

GT: Why are you getting so angry with me?

GG: I don't know! And I'm not angry with you!

GT: What's wrong Jane?

GG: You tell me!

GT: …

GT: Well, alright then.

GT: None of this is real, jane.

GT: And youre right, im not supposed to be pestering you right now and youre not supposed to be so angry with me.

GT: Neither of us are even alive.

GG: What?

I stared at my screen, knuckles white on my arm rests. Why was I hyperventilating all of the sudden? Jake was just talking nonsense. When I looked around me, though, all of my Crocker Corp merchandise had vanished, the confectionary fumes gone. I kept resetting the same grimace, twisting my head this way and that. I stood and strode to the door, ready to ask my dad why he wasn't baking. Instead, one black-haired, green-eyed adventurer greeted me.

"Hello."

"What?" I breathed, the corners of my mouth falling, my brow furrowing, as I silently pleaded for answers.

"Please remember what this really is. I don't want to have to tell you."

I shook my head once, maybe twice, before the memories of 2011 started to drip back to me. "Hold on." I muttered. Looking back to my room, I saw a meeting where my balcony collided with the back wall. There was a couch, the alchemiter, and L'il Seb. "I remember that." That was to my left. To my right, instead of a computer, now there was a chasm, and beyond that chasm was LOCAH. "I remember that." I repeated just above a mumble. I turned back to Jake and suddenly, instead of a doorframe and a hallway, there was concrete and lava. Aranea was behind him and she was focusing on Dirk's blade. Jake was still there, in front of me in that ridiculously scandalous outfit. The scene flashed and I rushed forward, palms out. But I was too late and I still saw the white knife slice through him like thin air. He turned to me, eyebrows raised and said,

"You can stop remembering now."

I squeezed my eyes shut and dropped to my knees, my hands flying to my eyes as if to wash away the image of crimson cuts, solitary sobs coming up over and over at what had rammed me like a jet engine on an empty runway. I heard Jake whimper and whine and somewhere in my mind I recognized he had a hand on my shoulder, but I didn't have the strength to actually care. I had died a just death with the batterwitch's strings in my back. I don't know how long we stayed there, but by the end nothing had changed. That was my first dream bubble.


End file.
